Poems from Virginia, #3

Death deserves its own uncovery

That’s like a discovery that’s been hiding under the surface

Flip over that large flat stone

And that discarded log

View the beetles and worms

Feed on the dead


From ashes to ashes

From dirt thus is life

I worry about you, up there

So far from the soil

When you fall, it will feel that much farther

I don’t think you’ve ever walked upon the gravel, descalços

I need you to like pain, just a little bit

Then, I think, we will be free to write the kingdom of our dreams

Here in reality

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